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Chapter 340: Chapter 336 ~ Uninvited Guests

Sirzechs, Serafall, Grayfia, Okita Souji, as well as Rias, Akeno, Sona, and Tsubaki all opened their mouths—yet no words came out.

The moment they stepped through the swirling vortex of shadows and magic, their feet touched down upon immaculate marble—smooth, cool, and gleaming faintly with enchanted light. Their eyes rose, widening in disbelief.

Towering walls surrounded them, supported by massive columns, each carved flawlessly. Not a seam, not a line, not even the faintest hint of a joint existed—an architectural feat that defied all logic and craftsmanship. It was as if they were carved from a single slab of white marble. Or perhaps… it really was. 

Softly glowing magic lanterns hung from the columns, their crystal flames dancing with gentle warmth.

Above, magnificent chandeliers made of radiant gemstones and flawless diamonds shimmered from the high ceiling, scattering soft prismatic lights across the hall. Yet it was not the opulence that stole their breath—it was the harmony with nature.

Where windows should have been, there was only open air.

Beyond the arches, nature unfolded like a living painting: endless stretches of vibrant trees, cascading vines blooming with luminescent flowers, waterfalls flowing into crystal-clear lakes, and mystical animals roaming freely.

A fresh, gentle breeze brushed past them—alive, constant, as if the entire castle breathed.

It was impossible. It should have been impossible.

This environment couldn't be natural… and yet, even knowing it was constructed artificially through magic, they could not distinguish where magic ended and nature began.

And beneath it all, they felt it—magic.

Not simply surrounding them, but permeating everything. The stone, the air, the water, the breeze… as if the entire place was woven from an unending reservoir of power.

"Amazing…"

"It's so beautiful…"

Rias and Akeno hugged Yuuji's arms closer as they looked around in awe. Though they've visited Yuuji's estate numerous times, this was the first time they've ever visited the Hanging Gardens. 

As for Sona and Tsubaki, they're both as speechless as the Demon Kings, Grayfia, and Okita.

"Is this… a castle?" Sirzechs finally managed to ask, stunned.

Yuuji smiled at his bewilderment and continued walking down the grand hallway. The four followed closely behind.

"No," he replied gently. "Rather than a castle, it is more fitting to call it a fortress."

He stopped, turned to them, and raised a hand.

"Welcome to the Hanging Gardens of Babylon."

Serafall blinked, then looked outward again—this time paying attention to the horizon. The sky… seemed too close. The clouds were drifting almost beneath them.

Her eyes widened.

"Y-Yuuji-chan… Are we in the sky?!"

Shock rippled through the four devils. Yuuji simply nodded, amusement tugging at his lips.

"We are. That's one of the reasons we had to use special means to get here. This fortress cannot be reached through ordinary flight or teleportation—neither physically nor magically."

Grayfia inhaled slowly, her silver eyes narrowing.

Only now did she see it—a thin veil of shimmering, incomprehensible runes etched into the very sky itself. They pulsed like a wave across the sky faintly with a strength she could hardly measure.

Whether they served concealment, defense, binding, or all three… she knew one thing for certain:

Even with all of her power, she could not break that spell.

Just how much power was required to sustain something of this scale…?

Soon, they arrived before a towering double door of pure marble, its surface engraved with golden designs depicting leaves, vines, the sun, the moon, and a majestic throne. 

Yuuji pushed it open effortlessly, despite its immense size, and ushered them inside.

What awaited them was breathtaking.

A massive chamber opened above to the sky, like a sanctuary embraced by nature.

Trees rustled beside sparkling streams, flowers bloomed in vibrant clusters, and waterfalls cascaded gently over smooth stone. Paths of polished marble led toward a massive round table in the center.

Around it were six extravagant chairs.

Three were already occupied.

Azazel reclined lazily with his arms crossed, flanked by Tobio and Lavinia. Tobio, dressed in a sleek black suit, nodded in greeting; Lavinia waved excitedly, her pristine white dress and witch's hat fluttering with the breeze.

Beside Azazel sat Michael in full heavenly regalia, radiating serene divinity. Next to him was Gabriel—draped in an ethereal white dress that barely hid her curves, glowing with divine charm. She instantly straightened up the moment she saw Yuuji.

"Yuuji-sama~! It's so nice to see you again~ I've missed you so much~!"

Yuuji smiled warmly.

"It's good to see you too, Gabriel. It's only been a few days."

"Still! I've been lonely! But I know you've been working so hard for the summit, so thank you very much!"

"Of course. It's my honor."

Behind them stood Irina, ostensibly present as a guard—but everyone knew she was here because she was familiar with Xenovia, Yuuji, and his circle.

Beside her stood two figures Yuuji knew from the anime alone.

Griselda Quarta—a dignified beauty with calm blue eyes, her exquisite figure hidden beneath the modest robes of a nun.

And Dulio Gesualdo—the Church's strongest exorcist, a handsome young man with golden hair, green eyes, and the relaxed presence of someone both confident and kind.

A single glance was enough for Yuuji to feel it: the overwhelming holy power, the silent pressure of a Longinus wielder—Zenith Tempest.

Dulio caught Yuuji's gaze and offered a gentle smile. Yuuji returned it.

Sirzechs and the others continued to stare, shocked at how effortlessly familiar Yuuji was with those who would normally maintain strict formality—even Gabriel herself was practically glowing with affection.

Yuuji took his seat at the head of the table.

Behind him stood Aika, Erika, Albedo, C.C., and Lelouch—silent but imposing. Rias and Akeno stood with them, in between Yuuji, Sirzechs and Serafall. 

Semiramis was absent; she controlled the entire Hanging Gardens from the throne chamber.

Once everyone settled, Yuuji exhaled softly.

"Ah, before we begin… I must apologize," he said lightly. "I left some of your… friends back in Kuoh."

"Friends?" Sirzechs repeated, confused.

Yuuji's smile widened playfully.

"Yes. 'Friends.' Though their killing intent was rather troublesome, so I decided they shouldn't be brought anywhere near this place."

Confusion spread across the devils' faces.

Even Azazel and Michael exchanged puzzled looks.

"What do you mean, Yuuji-kun?" Michael asked.

Without answering, Yuuji flicked his wrist.

In the center of the table, a large mirror materialized. Its surface was initially opaque—until it rippled like water.

A moment later, a live scene of Kuoh appeared.

A figure stood in the middle of town—drenched in layers of illusion magic that made him look like a silhouette carved from oil. The mirror ignored all concealment, revealing him with clinical clarity.

Every devil in the room instantly recognized the distorted figure.

"Creuserey?!" Sirzechs shouted, his voice echoing across the chamber.

And just like that, the atmosphere in the Hanging Gardens turned razor sharp.

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"Show yourselves! Cowards! Face me and feel the wrath of a true heir of the Original Demon Kings!"

Creuserey Asmodeus' roar tore through the night as he dispelled every layer of his abjuration and concealment spells. His hatred-contorted face emerged from the shadows—only to be greeted by an unnerving, suffocating silence.

He had been found.

The jet-black arrow that grazed his cheek—leaving only a thin line of blood—was proof enough. There was no point in hiding now.

Yet despite his provocation… nothing responded.

No footsteps. No rustling wings. No spells buzzing to life.

Only silence. A silence so deep it felt unnatural, wrong… as if reality itself was holding its breath.

Creuserey clenched his fists, fury boiling in his veins.

Where was his army?

He had brought hundreds—devils reinforced with potions, cursed rituals, and forbidden spells. Soldiers stripped of fear, pain, hesitation. Monsters engineered to obey and overwhelm.

At his shout, even under attack, they should have moved. They should have answered with violence and carnage.

But nothing came.

"Useless trash!" he growled, vanishing in a burst of black light as he soared through the dark streets.

His senses spread outward like a web of razor threads, searching for the familiar signatures of his subordinates.

Finally—faintly—he sensed one. A cursed one. The magical residue of the pain-enhancing enchantments he had personally carved into their souls.

He rushed toward the source.

But just as he approached, the signature flickered… then vanished, snuffed out like a dying ember in a storm.

Creuserey's eye twitched in irritation.

'Weak… I should've forced even more curse amplification on them. Pathetic failures…'

Still, he followed the last trace and descended onto a deserted residential street—

—and froze.

There, split open cleanly from skull to groin, lay one of his strongest captains.

Halved so perfectly that not a single jagged edge marred the cut.

And before the corpse stood a towering, armored figure.

A knight made of darkness itself, wreathed in a restless aura that shifted like smoke. Jet-black armor, emotionless helm, a broad sword that reeked of death, and a shield scarred from countless battles.

Its presence was suffocating. Heavy. Absolute.

Creuserey narrowed his eyes.

"So you're the rat bold enough to strike at me…"

The knight did not answer. It simply turned—slowly, as if acknowledging an insignificant bug—and stared directly at him.

Creuserey snarled.

"Know your place!"

He raised one arm, a glowing magic circle flaring to life—

—but the knight moved before he even finished forming it.

For a split second, Creuserey saw only a blur.

"—!!"

Instinct saved him. He shot into the air, devil wings erupting as he dodged what he felt more than saw.

A heartbeat later—

PAIN.

"—GRRAAAHHH!!!"

His scream echoed across the empty streets.

His left leg—gone. Not cut through the shin. Not the knee. Up to his thigh.

Blood sprayed downward in a gruesome crimson rain. Worse still, agony tore through the wound, searing like holy fire.

His regeneration—normally instantaneous—did nothing. The wound didn't close. Not even a little.

It was as if the blade carried the same anti-devil properties as the Church's holy light spears.

"You insolent wretch!" Creuserey howled, rage overtaking caution.

Magic swallowed the sky as a massive demonic circle formed above him, distorting the clouds as a storm of destructive demonic power gathered.

But the moment the spell reached full power—

CRACK.

It shattered.

"Wha—?!"

Before he could comprehend what happened—

PIERCE.

An arrow of shadow pierced his right shoulder, erupting through the flesh. The same type of arrow that grazed his cheek earlier.

His right arm went numb.

And then—

SPLAT.

Blood burst from his back as something struck him—something he never saw, never sensed. The assault was invisible, merciless, surgical.

His vision warped from pain.

Where are they?! Why is no one answering?! Why is my army not coming?!

"YOU SHALL PAY FOR THIS!" he bellowed, voice cracking with a mix of pain and humiliation. 

"I SWEAR IN THE NAME OF ASMODEUS—I WILL TEAR YOU APART AND FEED YOU TO THE DOGS!!!"

He turned and bolted into the sky, fleeing with every ounce of strength he had left.

Only when he vanished into the darkness did the assailants reveal themselves.

First came the shadow—tall, humanoid, clad in a sleek combat suit of reinforced modern armor. In each hand was a silver gun, both humming faintly with magical energy.

Beside him, towering like a monument of death, materialized a giant skeletal figure.

Clad in elaborate arcane robes, gripping a magnificent golden staff shaped with seven serpents which held within its gaping maw different colored jewels. 

The knight approached the pair in silence.

A second later, a winged birdlike warrior landed beside them, armored in shadow-feathered plates, gripping a massive bow whose string thrummed with dangerous energy.

Finally, slipping from the darkness like living ink, a jet-black shinobi emerged, silent and deadly.

"Hm, I did not expect him to flee so quickly," the skeletal mage mused, his ember-like eye flames flickering with amusement.

The armored man in the combat suit hovered off the ground, rising calmly into the air.

"It doesn't matter. He won't get far."

"Indeed."

The skeletal mage lifted his staff. With a soft chant and a flicker of arcane light, he cast [Fly].

Together, the two ascended toward the night sky.

"Let's end this," the armored man said.

The knight, bird archer, and ninja followed soon after—shadows streaking upward in silent pursuit.

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